Stained
by lissieheart
Summary: DracoHermione. What is it like to be in love with a girl you should hate,who is in love with your best friend? Grown up, married and too old to start life over again, we all find that there are always second chances.


Chapter One: Eyes Wide Open

"_We are each the love of someone's life." _

–_The Confessions of Max Tivoli, Andrew Sean Greer_

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_**Draco**_

We are each the love of someone's life.

I remember reading that line somewhere and somehow, for one reason or the other, it has never left my mind. Out there, somewhere, there is someone for me and I am the one for someone. The catch is that the one for you might have someone else for her.

I never came across to other people as a romantic.

I would probably die if anyone discovered that Ice Prince of Slytherin the Great Draco Malfoy was a romantic at heart.

But that's who I am.

And you may never be allowed the privilege of being who you are.

I may seem to have everything but in fact, at the end of day, when I look back and I unclench my fists, I realize that I have been empty handed all along. I have had nothing at all.

My father struggled and fought all his life for something that even he could not define. He is now rotting away in Azkaban. I learnt more from the empty shell of a man I call my father than I did from anyone else. I learnt about hate and death, love and life, betrayal and trust. I saw how his love for my mother never wavered and that was the only thing that kept him alive and fighting in this cruel world.

They call us the bad people. I saw those fights, those fights that were between, from their lips- the good and the evil. In their eyes, we're evil, we're the bad side. Yet we call them the bad people. You see a different view completely when you're standing on the other side of the world.

The world is never black and white.

In my world, I have seen love. This might surprise some people, especially those who think my world is filled with nothing but hate and the thirst for blood. But yet, unknown to them, I have seen true love that drives a man to do things beyond his own imagination, true love that triggers a woman to summon courage she has never known she had within herself to do things she could never have achieved.

In a way, we are all romantics- we have all marveled at the power of love, as powerful as the power of hate, two of the strongest feelings one could possess, come so close that there is hardly a line to define them.

I hate my father for the things that he has done to me, for how he shattered my family, for how he robbed me of the childhood I was entitled to have; yet I love him. I love him because I have seen his love for my mother, his love for me.

In a way, I am weak. In another, I am strong. Who is to say which I really am?

It is early autumn.

The weather is starting to turn chilly. The leaves are starting to turn yellow.

Today is not a normal day.

It's her birthday today.

My thoughts today are scattered because of this very fact.

She's the one for me but am I the one for her?

I wonder if she knows I'm thinking of her.

I wonder how she's celebrating her birthday today.

I wonder if she has cake. She probably does, I have seen the way Gryffindors celebrate birthdays, loud and boisterous affairs, with a feast of food and a cake was no exception.

I sigh, long and loud.

I just want to try and not be wrong for her. I don't ask to be right for her, I just don't want to be wrong.

I know I'm good-looking enough to have more than half the girls in Hogwarts charmed, but she's not just another girl.

She's the love of my life.

She's stubborn, bad-tempered, a Gryffindor, a muggleborn, a know-it-all and my enemy by blood.

She's the love of my life.

But am I hers?

--

_**Hermione**_

It's my birthday today.

I can't believe that I'm seventeen.

It's so hard to believe that just next year all of us- all the people whom I grew up with- from little innocent children to teenagers to the young adults we now are- are all going to tossed into the working world to fend for ourselves.

Colin is, as usual, running around the common room, taking pictures. Seamus yells at him, making a rude gesture as he looks up from snogging his newest muse- a fifth year brunette called Tara. Colin laughs, ignoring Seamus and snapping a few shots of a scantily clad Tara, looking slightly dazed on Seamus' lap with her lipstick smeared all over her face as well as an enraged Seamus.

I shake my head slightly and feel Ron and Harry come behind me, slinging their hands across my shoulders.

"Happy Birthday!" they shout in my ears and I feel my grin split my face.

Ron bends down to kiss my cheek and I blush as Colin's camera flashes.

"Colin!" Harry laughs. "Stop it already."

Colin immediately stops sheepishly.

"If you want to take pictures, take me," Ginny giggles, appearing by my side, posing in exaggerated poses, twisting her curvaceous little body gracefully.

Colin starts to pick up his camera eagerly, with a hint of appreciation as he surveys Ginny, but at Harry's scowl he drops his hands back to his sides and darts off.

I worm my way through the throng of people in the common room and after great effort, I find a nice private spot next to the window.

Glancing out, I spot a familiar blond figure walking briskly towards the lake.

I fight to keep a scowl of my face when I think of Malfoy. He did nothing but irritate me and my friends for the past few years- no scratch that, our entire lives in Hogwarts.

He was and still most definitely is the most arrogant, snobby, stuck-up, evil, and mean person in Hogwarts. Sometimes, when the word Mudblood comes out of his mouth and he doesn't even flinch while saying it, my blood boils and I think that this person, this creature, must not have a heart, but other times, when I don't lose my cool, I know that deep inside, Draco Malfoy must have a heart, must have weakness, must have a soul.

In those very rare moments, I catch him with strange looks on his face, little half-smiles that transforms him completely into a different person. But when he sees me looking at him, his trademark sneer with twist his face into an ugly scowl and whatever sympathy, whatever pity or friendliness even, I might have felt towards him with vanish just like that.

From the window, I watch cautiously, afraid to breath, less he finds out that I'm watching him from afar.

He kicks at the grass nervously as though he is thinking of something, his hands in his pockets, an action that is so plainly human that I startle. I seldom think of him as someone like us.

Then his chest suddenly rises then falls slowly as though he is sighing and his shoulders slouches, giving him a sad and disappointed look. It's one of the rare times where I see him showing some kind of emotion.

"What are you thinking about?" Harry's voice tickles my face and I whirl around, automatically shifting so I shield the window from his view. I don't want to him to see Malfoy. In a way, I'm selfish. I want to be able to claim these rare moments for myself. I wonder what's wrong with me briefly before smiling up at Harry.

"Nothing much, just about how we're going to graduating so soon," I say, smiling.

"Yeah, time just flies," Harry nods, "I can still remember when Ron and I saved you from the troll in first year."

I start to laugh, as the memory not brought up for so many year replays itself in my mind.

Harry laughs as well and we walk back into the crowd to join into the party.

Instinctively before the window vanishes form my view, I turn around and I still see him, standing in the wind, his shoulders hunched as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.

--

_**Draco**_

I can never seem to fall asleep when I want to.

It's already past twelve. I've been lying in my bed, trying in vain to fall asleep for the past two hours.

It's not all the time that this happens. I'm now sitting up on my bed, eyes stinging and tired, but my brain still painfully alert. I'm writing her a birthday letter, one that I know that she will never receive because it's one that I'd never send.

I have already charmed my drapes so I wouldn't be disturbing Blaise, Vincent and Greg with the light I have on.

By the time I scrawl my name at the base of the long roll of parchment, its long past one. In the silence of the night, every small movement seems to be as loud as thunder. I cringe as I pull my drawer open, making a harsh scratchy noise that seemed to crack the silence in the room. I slide the parchment slowly inside and shut the drawer, carefully. Breathing once more, I cast the locking spell on the drawer before pushing my wand under my pillow, where I can easily reach it, and let my head fall back onto my pillow.

I close my eyes and picture her smiling face behind my eyes.

Before I drift into a uncomfortable sleep, I think about the fact that if I could have her, I would never ask for anything else for the rest of my life, except maybe for her to stay with me forever.

_Draco's Letter to Hermione, hidden in the first drawer of his bedside table, slightly crumpled_

Dearest Hermione,

Happy Birthday. You're seventeen today. You may wonder why I know that it's your birthday today. Actually I don't think you'd be happy to find out that I knew about your birthday when I heard some girls talking about your birthday two years ago. I can still remember their entire conversation because it was about you, my love.

They spoke of your coming birthday and what to get you, they thought of getting you some nice soap, or maybe a book.

It's your birthday today and I didn't get you anything at first but just two hours ago, I snuck down to the dungeons where we're going to have our first lesson tomorrow and placed a pink rose at your table in front of me.

I wish you a happy birthday, Hermione, may you stay forever the woman I love.

You may wonder when it was that I started to love you and I supposed all along, I loved you, in one way or the other. You were always the head strong Gryffindor girl, smart, caring and beautiful, and I couldn't stop myself from falling.

I have loved you for a long time now, Hermione and I don't think you will ever know that I love you, simply because I'm too much of a coward to tell you. Why?

Because I'm afraid, Hermione, of rejection, of the pain that I would have to fall asleep with if you reject me like you probably do. I'm weak, Hermione, although like everyone else, I pretend to be strong.

Are you weak too, my love?

Everyone has their weaknesses, what are yours?

I have my weaknesses too, there are too many to count- chocolates, a good book, but most of all, my biggest weakness- is you, Hermione. I love you beyond what you can imagine.

You have always been my weakness, darling. I have a sneaking suspicion that you always will be. If I had my way with fate and destiny, I would have you and you'd have me. I would paint your world pink and white, the colours you like, and dress you up in flowers, one of the things I know you have a weakness for.

I want to fill you to the brim with my love and lift you high.

I wonder if any part of you thinks of me differently now. I have always been the big bad Slytherin to you. I have done only too much to hurt you. It would be surprising if you didn't hate me, after the way I treated you. It makes me cringe, but you don't have control over some things.

I have my road and you have yours. We are too different, yet we are only too alike.

I think of you at night, Hermione, do you know? Can you feel when I whisper my love for you out into the night air, praying that somehow the message be carried to you in your room? Do you know when I stare at you in class, behind those hard cold eyes and the cruel sneer, I'm smiling at you?

You have always been the one for me.

And if I could control things, you would always be.

I don't think I will ever find a woman as worthy of love as you.

There has never been anyone close to you, Hermione, so far I have never seen a girl anything like you- not one who was head strong, smart, beautiful, caring and perfect as you are. Even if you weren't head strong, or smart, or beautiful, or caring, I think I would still love you.

I know that I stand no chance, and there are so many other good men out there for you.

But I just wish that the man you choose to love, to give your heart to, could be me.

I would cradle your heart in my hands and never let go.

It is the only thing I prayed for.

Happy Birthday, Hermione. You're seventeen today. Do you know in my seventeen years of life, I spent half my time in school loving you?

What did you wish for this year?

With all of my love,

Draco.

_**Hermione**_

I see the strangest thing when I arrive in Prof. Snape's dungeons this morning. I find a pink rose on my desk, quiet and innocent.

I have a weakness for flowers, especially those which are pink or white.

I hide the rose in my bag, heart beating faster suddenly.

I wonder who it is.

"Hey."

I feel a smile spread over my face. "Hi, Blaise."

The dark slender boy slides into his seat in front of me and smiles at me cheerfully. The best Slytherin I have ever met- Blaise Zabini. I think I might like him a little. Okay, now I think that's an understatement, I think I like him a lot.

Maybe it's the way he smiles or the way he moves, the way he talks to me.

I have no idea, it's like when he speaks to me, I'm floating some where higher and my thoughts are all chased away. This is what he does to me.

Is this love?

Someone makes a noise behind me. I turn around instinctively. It's Malfoy.

He looks terrible, there are dark circles around his hard tired grey eyes which are tinged with red and he looks more than a little disheveled.

He does not notice me, not even to sneer and slumps onto his desk, cradling his head in his hands. In my head, the scene from yesterday flashes through my mind and I have never seen him so humane before.

I actually think of asking him how he is, but before I open my mouth, Prof. Snape bursts in and dishes out orders in a monotone.

I turn back to the front and Blaise is turned around in his seat, facing me.

He grins. "Do you have an extra quill?"

I think I might faint. "Yeah," I say and push it across the table, trying to keep a blush off my face.

"Thanks," he turns back, twirling my quill in his hand.

I swallow and breathe deeply.

Behind me, there is sharp scratching sound, of the chair against ground and I glance behind me. Malfoy is sitting up straight, his grey eyes glittering with a kind of strange anger and desperation and millions of emotions flit across of his face, I catch a glimpse of disappointment, horror and anger.

I wonder who or what has the ability to make him so prone to such emotions.

--

_**Draco**_

This can't be happening.

Please don't do this to me. Please.

I think I can't breathe anymore.

This can't be happening.

My Hermione, you can't be falling in love, but I see that you are.

Simply, cruelly, brutally in love while I was all along in love with you.

--

_**Harry**_

Malfoy looks like he is going to be sick soon.

He is turning positively green and purple.

His eyes are transfixed somewhere in front of him, the space between Hermione and Blaise Zabini and he seems to be seeing something there. He squeezes his eyes shut and lets his head drop onto his desk with a dull thud.

Everyone turns around to stare.

Snape shouts at the lot of us to pay attention and we promptly turn back to face the board, but out of the corner of my eye, I notice that Malfoy's head does not lift for the entire lesson.

--

_**Draco**_

I fly round and round the Hogwarts grounds, feeling the harsh cut of the wind against my face until the skin turns numb.

My knuckles on my broom are bone white as I increase my grip and wrench the broom sideways so I'm spiraling downwards rapidly.

Tears are silver flecks that fly from my eyes backwards and disappear into the pink and purple sky.

I land clumsily, stumbling a few steps forward and lurch onto the ground, on my knees. I pant, breathing in the fresh smell of grass. My throat is painfully dry and I desperately need water. But in a way, I need her more.

I drag myself to the Great Hall for dinner. I see that more than a few heads turn, and there are whispers about me, but I ignore them. I pour myself a glass of ice cold juice and drink it down in a single breath. The sweating glass leaves my fingers cold and wet. I stare at the cold glass, foggy and dripping and I imagine myself ripping my chest open and placing that glass where my heart should be- cold and empty.

Across the room, I watch as she tips her head back and laughs.

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A/N: How was it? I really am in desperate need of opinions and if you guys could review and tell me how you thought, i would be really really HAPPY. (: 

-Lissie.


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